Finding Mr Darcy
by Frogster
Summary: Casey and Derek's new English project is to read Pride and Prejudice. What happens when the book starts paralleling their lives? Dasey, obviously. Please read and review! Chapter 4 now up!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is my first LWD fic, so I would appreciate reviews and/ or constructive criticism. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own LWD, Pride and Prejudice, or Fritos. But if I did, I'd be richer than Oprah.**

"Em! Em! Guess what?!" the pretty brunette said, running down the hall of her high school.

Emily Davis turned and looked, watching as her best friend, Casey McDonald, came running up to her. Or, _sliding_ might be more appropriate, considering that Casey had once again slipped on air and almost tripped herself up. She was greeted with rounds of "Klutzilla strikes again!", the loudest yeller being her stepbrother, Derek Venturi, who was standing right behind her. Casey shook her head in disgust and instead focused on Emily. Her blue eyes were shining, a sign that, in every normal girl, would mean that she had just found the hottest sale at Charlotte Russe. But not Casey. She was far from any normal girl.

"What?" Emily asked, retrieving her chemistry binder from her locker.

"We just got our English reading assignments! And guess what book we get to read!" Casey cried, elated.

"I hope it's not _The Great Gatsby _or _Great Expectations_," Emily grumbled.

"No, it's even better. We get to read _Pride and Prejudice_!" squealed Casey.

"But haven't you read that book, like, a million times?"

"So? It gets better every time you read it. It's the classic, best example of a romance. Girl meets guy, girl is disgusted by guy, girl argues with guy, girl falls for another guy, more arguing between the girl and the first guy, first guy asks girl to marry him, which results in more arguing, girl discovers that the second guy isn't what she thought he was—the same goes for the first guy—falls in love with first guy, and then finally marries him after waiting for him for what seems an excruciating long amount of time. Oh! It's such the best!" Casey sighed, clutching the well-worn copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ to her chest.

Emily rolled her eyes, realizing what Casey did not: that this whole _Pride and Prejudice_ plot sounded a lot like her relationship with a certain stepbrother of hers. Casey didn't know it, but Emily was pretty sure that Derek felt for Casey what Mr. Darcy felt for Elizabeth Bennet: a deep, abiding love, fueled by passionate arguments and yet covered up with those same arguments, but at the same time, an unwanted, almost feared love, because of the connections between them. Of course, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth had had the fact that they weren't stepsiblings on their side. Emily wished that they would just throw away the pretenses and admit their feelings for each other.

For Emily thought that Casey liked Derek, too.

When Casey opened the door to enter her house, she was skipping. She was that excited about slipping away into Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth's world, a world where men were gentleman-like and sweet, not a skirt-chasing pig and a miniature wannabe salesman, which was what she had in her two stepbrothers. She was just glad she had Lizzie and Marti to combat the boys, even though Marti loved her Smerek.

Her point about miniature pig salesmen brothers was proved when she discovered Derek laying on the couch, asleep, his mouth wide open and a bag of Fritos in his lap. Casey sighed and turned to go up to her room, but amusement got the better of her, and she sneakily grabbed a handful of Fritos from the bag and started pitching them at Derek's open mouth. She was halfway through her second handful when Derek suddenly sat up, mumbling something like, "Hey, hot stuff, what's going on? Do you think you could make me a sandwich?" Casey sighed again. Even while sleeping, Derek was focused on the two of the three most important things in his life: girls and food. The third most important thing? His sister, Marti.

Casey ran up the stairs, not wanting to see Derek's reaction when he fully awoke to find himself covered in Fritos. (Casey's aim wasn't as good as she'd hope. One Frito had landed in Derek's shirt pocket, another in his ear, and another on the bridge of his nose.) Casey's judgment was gratified when she heard a "Hey!" and then crunching sounds, followed by, "Mmm, that's good." She went into her room and closed the door, wanting more than ever to escape into the perfect world that the marvelous Jane Austen had created.

Little did she know that her favorite book would soon morph into reality.

**Hope you liked it! Please read and review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thank you so much to all of my wonderful reviewers! You've really made me feel welcome here. At last count, I had 192 hits on this story! That's double--or triple--my other stories combined! I hope you enjoy this next chappie!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own LWD, Pride and Prejudice, or Monopoly. Except I do own the Pirates of the Caribbean Monopoly. Good stuff!**

"Casey! Dinner!" Nora McDonald-Venturi called up the stairs.

Casey sighed. She had been swept away into the perfect world of Jane Austen, where no annoying stepbrothers laughed at you because you have a tripping problem. Oh no. In Miss Austen's day, the worst thing one had to worry about was the marriage issue. Casey would rather have an obnoxious suitor like Mr. Collins (_and_ a silly mother and sisters to boot) than have to go through one more day of coming home to find Derek drinking out of the milk carton (again) or he and Sam playing one of their sexist video games. Poor Sam. He was just a victim in all of this. Just like Mr. Bingley, thought Casey. It really wasn't his fault that his sister was just a witch out to steal Mr. Darcy out from Elizabeth's nose.

Casey placed her bookmark in her book; she'd just gotten to the part where Jane takes sick and Elizabeth has to go to Netherfield and take care of her. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy had just had one of their famous spats. Lucky Elizabeth, Casey thought. At least she has some stimulating conversation. Her point was intensified when she came down to find her family in an uproar. Edwin had a top hat on and a briefcase in his hand, and was trying to convince George of the merits of his newest scheme. Lizzie was trying to tell her mother about Jamie's latest girlfriend, who evidently was a witch herself. Marti was laughing at Derek, who had stuck two straws up his nose and was attempting to be a walrus. Casey almost turned around to go back up the stairs when Nora caught sight of her. "Casey. Good. You're here. Maybe now we could all act like a _normal_ family and sit down and eat a nice dinner. Edwin, stop trying to convince your father to fund whatever it is you've done this time. I've made pot roast and I know it's your favorite."

"Just a minute, Nora," Edwin said, turning to Casey. "Well now, seems we have a new client here. How would you like to make a thousand dollars a week?"

"The only way she could do that is by dancing," Derek chimed in. "And since we all know how much of a klutz she is, I don't think that would work."

Casey glared at Derek and Edwin just kept running his live infomercial. "What I have here in my briefcase is the answer to all of your problems."

"Unless you have a thousand pairs of no-skid slipper socks, Ed, I don't think you could help her."

Edwin said, "No, what I've got is……." And he opened his briefcase to reveal thousands of pieces of colored paper with dollar signs written all over them.

"Fake money?" asked Casey. "No, I don't think so."

"It's not _fake_," said Edwin dismissively. Then he turned on his "charm" and said, "Are _you _tired of losing all your Monopoly money? Sick of not being able to play Life because of missing cash? Then have I got a deal for you." Then he winked, the way they did in those infomercials. Except that he couldn't quite pull it off. It made him look like he had Tourette's or a piece of dust in his eye. Needless to say, Edwin doesn't have quite the charm that Derek has.

The family all sat down, finally, after Casey just sighed and slipped into her chair. "So, honey, how was your day?" asked Nora.

This got Casey super-excited. "Great! In English class we got a new assignment, the best one we've had all year! We get to read Pride and Prejudice!"

"That's nice, dear," Nora said. But Derek interrupted:

"Can anyone say 'grade-grubber'?"

This incensed Casey, and her face turned red. "Just because I happen to glean rapturous enjoyment from reading doesn't make me a grade-grubber. It just means that I'm cultured. Something _you_ could stand to be."

"Someone's in denial."

"And wait! What about the time we were partnered together on last year's English project? The one where we had to research Percy and Mary Shelley? You _needed_ that A, if I recall. Otherwise, you couldn't have spent all summer with your stupid band hanging out at Smelly Nellie's with Sally. And you didn't call me a grade-grubber then. So why should it be so different now?"

"Because, back then, I had to worry about summer school. Right now, I have all the time in the world. And I choose to use that time to goof off and _not_ read some silly book you love so much. If it's that great, why don't they have a graphic novel of it?"

"Because _graphic novels_ are not part of _cultured_ society. "Graphic" and "novels" put together make an oxymoron."

"What's an oxymoron?" asked Marti, innocently.

"An oxymoron is two words or statements that contradict each other," Casey said sweetly, with none of the animosity she had towards Marti's brother. "Such as _bitter_ and _sweet_ or _Derek_ and _cultured_. Or _sensitive_," she added as an afterthought. Casey looked, or, more accurately, glared, at Derek. "_Real_ novels use words to create imagery instead of two-dimensional cartoonish pictures. That's why there's so much illiteracy in this house. All you boys read is comic books."

"So now I'm illiterate?" Derek asked, annoyed.

"No, you're able to read, but you choose not to. That, in my opinion, defines a man: whether one chooses to read or not," Casey said, getting a dreamy look in her eyes.

"Remind me never to open a book again," Derek mouthed to Edwin. Then he turned toward Casey. "So now I'm not a man?"

"Not a fully realized, complete one," Casey answered, a bit smug.

"At least I have a life, Space Case," Derek countered. "I'm not some grade-grubber like you whose only purpose in life is to study and dream over silly romantic books. I. Have. Fun," he finished, pointing his index finger straight at Casey to emphasize the last three words.

At that, Casey jumped up, screeched a bloodcurling scream, shoved her dining chair in, and bolted upstairs, stomping loudly on each step, pretending it was Derek's head. She'd had it with Derek. This time, he had gone too far.

He certainly could use some tips from Mr. Darcy, she thought. I don't know what all of those bimbos he "dates" see in him.

Back downstairs, the whole McDonald-Venturi family was glaring at Derek. "What'd I do?" he asked. "I just told her the truth." That just made everyone glare harder.

Finally, Marti broke the silence with: "Can I have a pony?"

**A/N: I hoped you liked it! Since Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy's convoluted courtship begins with them bickering all the time, that's what the next couple of chapters are going to be about. If you've got any ideas as to what they should bicker about, tell me! Who knows, I might use it! Especially now, since I'm not really sure what they should fight about.**

**I hope the whole family, Casey and Derek included, are realistic. Constructive criticism is always accepted and encouraged, and of course, if you thought it was fantastic, too, don't hesitate to review :). So hit that little review button! You know you want to!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thanks to all my reviewers! It makes me happy wehn I get reviews, so if you've read my story but haven't reviewed, please do!**

**And I'm sorry I didn't post sooner, but with school and studying for tests, I haven't had much time. I'll try get the next chapter up quicker. Hope you like it!**

Casey smiled to herself as she walked into her English class the next day. Putting up with Derek at home was almost worth it, if she could come and delight in the wonderful novel that was _Pride and Prejudice_. She sat down in her seat—as always, in the front of the room—pulled out her notebook and pens, then folded her hands primly in the desk, as she imagined Jane Austen had, all those years ago.

_But Jane Austen didn't have to deal with what I put up with,_ she thought. _A classroom full of slackers that couldn't appreciate a good novel if one fell out of the sky and hit them on the head. Derek's even worse. He doesn't even _try_ to act like he's paying attention. No, he lets his drool drip all over the desk. If he doesn't watch it, he's going to end up a janitor that cleans up other slacker kids' spit. At least there's Max……_Casey mused.

Max Miller was the only thing, besides _Pride and Prejudice_ of course, that made English worth bearing. He was the quarterback—and captain—of the football team, and the most popular guy in school, after Derek. But Casey thought that Max deserved his popularity. His pristine white smile lit up his tanned face, his black hair gelled to just the right consistency: Casey just couldn't stand it. He was perfect. And _nice_. That, to a girl who was called "Klutzilla" and "Space Case" every day by her stepbrother, was a welcome relief.

Casey gulped as the object of her thoughts walked into the classroom. "Hi, Casey," Max called, nodding his head at her. She barely had enough time to squeak a "hi" back before the bell rang. As he slipped into his seat a few spots in front of her, she couldn't help imagine what a Mr. Darcy he would make. _Perfect._

At the bell, Mrs. Nichols walked in. She was one of Casey's favorite teachers, for they shared a common love of classic literature, particularly a good romance. She reminded Casey of Elizabeth Bennet's aunt, Mrs. Gardiner—always ready to listen and give advice, always eager to chat. If only she had an aunt like that, but she didn't, only her mother's sister, and her horrible cousin Vicky. Casey shuddered. _There _was a name better left unspoken.

As was the name belonging to the miscreant who sauntered in the door immediately after the bell stopped ringing. It was none other than Derek Venturi. "Catch you later, babe," he was saying to some poor, misguided soul of the female persuasion. Casey would never, could never understand what was so appealing about Derek to other girls. If they had ever smelled his hockey socks—a week after the game, still unwashed—or watched him drink milk right out of the carton, they would probably run and hide. As soon as Derek turned around, he was met by Mrs. Nichols, who was grinning, but not in a good way. "Derek, I'll have you know that this is your third tardy this week. You know what that means."

"What? This is the third time you're going to say, bless you, Derek, for taking the time out of your busy schedule to help a poor lost girl find her way to the office?"

"More like helping her lips find the way to your mouth, Derek," interjected Casey, surprising even herself.

Mrs. Nichols, thankfully, decided to ignore that comment. "No, it means detention. And since you've interrupted this class with your antics, why don't you give us an overview of chapter four?" Casey smiled. That was another reason why she liked Mrs. Nichols: like Casey herself, she was immune to Derek's charm.

The class continued normally for the rest of the hour—at least until there were five minutes left. Then, Mrs. Nichols suddenly announced, "Class, I have some important news. Next week, we are going to begin a project on _Pride and Prejudice_," cuing groans from most of the students, but a squeal from Casey. "You'll be required to read through chapter 16 and do some research on the time period and such. You'll work in partners…." Mrs. Nichols was cut off by the bell, and hurriedly finished, adding, "Which we will assign tomorrow. Have a good day!"

"So, Casey, I……." Max was stopped from saying any more when Emily came bounding up, jabbering.

"What was that, Max?" Casey asked, hoping it was in her flirtiest voice.

"No-Nothing," Max stammered. "I'll see you tomorrow, Casey."

Casey frowned as he turned away, then turned towards Emily and began talking to her. If only she would have turned around.

If she had, she would have seen Derek glaring daggers at Max.

Casey opened the door, humming to herself. She was excited about the project….and Max. _Maybe he wanted to ask me if I'd be his partner. _She grinned. _If only..._

Casey's reverie was interrupted when she saw the TV screen frozen at the _Pride and Prejudice _movie menu screen. She raised an eyebrow, not sure if her mom had put it on for her.

She couldn't believe who walked into the room just then.

It was Derek.

"DEREK?!" Casey cried. Of all people, he was the last one who she thought would be watching Pride and Prejudice. She was sure he'd rather put up with her or Kendra's tears than watch a "chick flick." And that was pretty bad, considering Derek's "no tears" policy.

"Yeah, Space Case. What do you want?"

"Why are _you_ watching Pride and Prejudice? Wouldn't you rather be bound and gagged?"

"Only when you're talking," he quipped. "And I'm watching Pride and Prejudice because there's nothing better to do. Kendra's busy. Sally's busy. And I thought if I wanted to see them later, I'd better watch the movie so I wouldn't get grounded and not be able to see them."

Casey gasped. This was the total opposite of Derek. Who knew that he actually cared about things like homework? She smiled, thinking that he might actually be growing up. "Really, Derek? You're watching Pride and Prejudice because you actually want to do your homework?" She didn't get into the fact that he was supposed to be reading the book instead of watching the movie—she figured that with Derek, any improvement should be appreciated. Besides, she figured that the point of the book would be wasted on him.

She was right.

"Yeah. And besides, Keira Knightley's _hot_," he clarified.

All of Casey's newfound hopes for Derek crashed then. She'd thought that maybe, just maybe, he would actually start pulling his weight in school. That way, he could get into a good college and maybe play the hockey that he loved so much. But this…this showed his true intentions. The way he was going, he'd end up working at McDonald's flipping hamburgers instead of making something of himself. "That is so typical of you, Der-ek!" she screamed. "The point of Pride and Prejudice is that Mr. Darcy values Elizabeth because of her intelligence and wit, not because she's beautiful. It's only _after_ he begins to know her that he regards her as 'one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.' But obviously, that point is wasted on you, because all you can think about is how _hot_ someone is. You're so masochistic."

"And I care why?" Derek asked.

"Maybe it's because that there's some _small_ part of you hiding in there somewhere that is actually civilized." Under her breath she added,_ even Mr. Wickham showed some sort of civilized behavior._

"Nope, not today!" he said, searching all over for the remote.

"And it's not like Keira Knightley is going to be in a bikini," she said. "So none of your fantasies are going to be satisfied."

"It doesn't really matter," he answered. "That's what the imagination's for."

"I didn't know you had one," Casey said primly.

"You know what, Space Case? It really isn't fair for you to be giving me 'romantic' advice, now, is it? Not since I'm the only one who has a significant other. You know, maybe you should take my advice. You're not going to find yourself any kind of man, much less a _Mr. Darcy_, if you don't stop acting like such a grade grubber and pay more attention to the things guys like. Such as pretty girls."

Casey was more incensed with him than she had ever been. She stalked over and stood halfway in between Derek and the TV, making sure to block it from his point of view. "Are you questioning my femininity?!"

"Anyone who's seen you early in the morning would question your femininity. Now move. You're taking up precious space."

"I don't know why all the girls are so enamored of him," she muttered, running up the stairs. "It's not like he gives them any reason to be. He's such a jerk. Imagine thinking that the only thing women have going for them is their beauty! Pity the woman who winds up with him."

She didn't remember, however, that Mr. Wickham wasn't quite the knight in shining armor that she adored, or that Mr. Darcy wasn't as bad as Elizabeth had thought. Otherwise, she might have foreseen what was coming next.

**Hope you liked it! As always, ideas are appreciated, as are reviews :). Can anyone figure out who will portray Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham? Also, any information on the rules of hockey would be nice, since playing hockey is going to be featured a little bit later.**

**So go ahead, make my day and hit that little Go button!**


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I know I said that I'd update sooner, but I had to study for two AP tests, then I got a job, and then my comput

**Author's Note: I know I said that I'd update sooner, but I had to study for two AP tests, then I got a job, and then my computer crashed (taking what I'd written for chapter four!). Right after that was the end of school. Now, I'm taking a college algebra course and working, but I'm going to try and update more. (As of this posting, I'm finished with the college algebra course, but I've still got to read and annotate **_**Frankenstein**_** for school. Oh joy.)**

**I should have started with the last chapter, but from now on I'll try to put a little italicized line at the beginning relating some aspect of Pride and Prejudice to Life With Derek. If I'd have done that the last time, it would have been: **_Pride and Prejudice wouldn't be Pride and Prejudice without Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth bickering; the same goes for Life With Derek and Casey and Derek's verbal spats._

**I hope you enjoy this next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own LWD or P&P. **

_Casey McDonald walked into a bright, airy room, filled with dancing couples. She couldn't help but glide in time to the waltz, played by a real orchestra. A soft fabric flowed about her slippered feet. She glanced down to see a creamy white dress: empire waist, silky sash and all that Elizabeth Bennet and her sisters had probably all dreamed about. She felt delicate and pretty, with her hair twisted and pinned at the back of her head and thin ringlets framing her face. She saw her best friend, Emily, come dashing—well, as close as one ever got to dashing in a long dress—over to her, wearing a soft pink dress cut much like Casey's._

"_Casey! You look marvelous!" Emily squealed in a most un-Jane-Austen-like expression._

"_So do you!" Casey squealed right back._

"_So," said Emily, as they walked over to the punch table, "Has anyone asked you to dance yet?"_

"_No," sighed Casey wistfully. She glanced over at the corner, where a group of handsome young men were standing. Like Casey, they were all dressed in Pride and Prejudice attire: crisp white shirts under black jackets with stand-up collars; form-fitting knee breeches; and those ever-present top hats. Casey didn't think that any of those boys could look more refined or appealing. Men in Jane Austen's day treated women with respect, a far cry from what Casey received from her least-favorite stepbrother._

_One of the handsome young men in question was Max Miller. Casey's heart fluttered at the sight of him. He was truly what a gentleman should be. While she was in the midst of her musings, he surprised her by turning around and walking in her direction._

_Casey grabbed Emily's hand for support; he couldn't be walking over towards her, could he? She watched as his top hat bobbled among all the others, coming quickly towards her. She had barely enough time to compose herself when he was suddenly before her. "Miss McDonald," he said in that adorable voice of his, "May I have this dance?" He offered his hand to escort her to the dance floor, and she, in a state of utter happiness, accepted. He led her out on the dance floor, gently tugging her after him. When they reached the middle of the floor, he turned to face her once more. However, it wasn't Max's grinning face that awaited her. Instead of glossy black hair, a messy mop of reddish-brown awaited her. Instead of a polite but real grin, an insufferable smirk winked at her. Of all the nerve……Derek Venturi wasn't satisfied with making her real life a living hell; he had to go all the way and make her dreams purgatory as well._

"_Come on, Space Case!" Derek said. Just before Casey thought she would do the unthinkable, unspeakable, unlivable act of placing her hand in Derek's, she realized that she'd been dreaming. Then why was Derek there? She opened her eyes and sure enough, there was the bane of her existence standing in her doorway._

"Come on, Space Case!" Derek said again, irritated with the sleeping Casey. He almost laughed out loud at the spectacle she made. Disheveled hair, a frown, and a grumbling mouth were not up to Princess Casey standards. What made the scene funnier was the fact that she had an eye-cover on, one of those things "princesses" and other demanding girls slept in to shield their eyes from the "blinding" light. Casey's own particular eye-shield read "The princess needs her beauty sleep." Derek was surprised she still had it. He'd given it to her on her birthday as a gag gift. "Really, Princess, you look horrible. If you want to look pretty you'd have to sleep for an eternity." Casey glowered at him. "But that would mean you'd be late for school….." Derek droned off, knowing that alone would wake Casey up.

Casey gasped and looked at her alarm clock. It read 7:45. "Great!" she screamed. "School starts in fifteen minutes! I'm going to be late…….."

Casey hurried through her morning routine as fast as she could. Shower, clothes, hair, makeup….all were accomplished at lightning fast speed. Her intense, seething anger at Derek was one catalyst to fuel her speediness this morning; her utter dislike for anything less than perfect was the other.

Finally, her keener sense of perfection was satisfied enough to run down the stairs and into the kitchen. She was planning on grabbing just a granola bar, an apple, and some juice before hightailing it out the door. However, when she rushed into the kitchen, she was greeted by the sight of George reading the paper, Nora frying eggs, Lizzie and Edwin quietly eating pancakes, and Marti clamoring for more syrup. Nora turned around to face her harried and confused eldest daughter.

"Morning, Casey. Do you want some eggs or would you prefer cereal/ I just went to the store yesterday and bought your favorite kind…."

"Yeah, Keener Krunch," said a highly amused Derek from behind Casey.

Casey chose to ignore him. Instead she asked her mom, "What…why are you all still here? Liz, Ed, shouldn't you be at school?"

"School?!" Edwin looked disgusted at the thought. "Who goes to school on Saturday?"

"S…S…Saturday?" repeated an utterly confused Casey. "This is Saturday?"

"Yeah, Casey," said Lizzie. "You know I have my soccer practice today."

"So you mean I got up and hurried through my morning routine, afraid of being late to school, to find out that today is SATURDAY?" Casey screeched the last word.

"Why'd you think you had school today, Case?" asked George.

"Because Derek…….." the mention of that horrible name silenced her. A light seemed to come on, and she placed her hands on her hips. "Because _Derek_ said so." She turned around to glare at her stepbrother, who was smirking as usual.

"C'mon, Space Case," Derek said smoothly, "Don't you know not to trust me?" He laughed as Casey sputtered and stammered. He loved pushing her buttons—it was the highlight of his day. There was nothing like a screaming, extremely ticked off Casey in the mornings. "Pancakes, Ed," ordered Derek as he sat down next to Edwin at the bar. The ever faithful slave Edwin obeyed and Derek dug in.

"Derek," asked George in an accusing tone, "What did you do to Casey this time?"

"Just reset her clock for 7:40, Dad. Nothing to get all worked up about," said Derek through a mouthful of pancake.

"Of course it is!" Casey screeched, not unlike a banshee. "I have the right to get worked up about it because it's another example of your plan to ruin every aspect of my life!"

"Maybe not every aspect," Derek smirked. "Wait, what's an aspect?"

"It's a term for a piece of something," Casey huffed. "But of course you wouldn't know that, because you're too busy chasing after bimbos to even think about contemplating something else besides girls, food, and hockey."

"I do so think about something else," Derek retorted. "I think about the best way to ruin your day. And right now, I'm thinking that you should go redo your hair. Looks like a bees' nest," he said, and hunkered back down into his breakfast.

Casey screamed, ran upstairs, and was heard to scream again. Derek's smirk got wider.

"I just forgot to tell her that I put superglue on her hairbrush so it'd stick to her hand," he commented to the dumbstruck audience.

"DER-EK!" Casey's voice could be heard as she thumped down the stairs, with the hairbrush stuck to her hand, as Derek had foretold.

"Yeah, Case?" Derek said, barely able to contain his laughter.

Casey said nothing, but proceeded to slam Derek's head into his plate—which was full of syrup.

As Casey stalked off, Derek raised his head and glared at the keener's back as she left—not forgetting to note her dancer's body as she sashayed into the living room.

As Derek was distracted for the time being, Edwin seized the moment and caught some of the syrup dripping from Derek's frowning face. He licked it, and smiled.

"Mmm. Maple syrup."

Casey had once again lost herself in the inviting world of Jane Austen, reveling over the Netherfield Ball, when the phone rang. She picked it up, humming to herself. She noticed that it was Lizzie's cell phone number registering on the caller ID, and wondered why her little sister would be calling now, since she was at soccer practice. "Hello?" she said, answering the phone.

"Hello? Is Mr. or Mrs. Venturi at home?" said the voice on the other line.

"Um, no, they're not, they've gone grocery shopping. May I take a message?" Casey, being the order freak that she was, already had a pen and paper in hand.

"Yes. This is Lizzie's soccer coach calling"—Casey cringed at the thought of Lizzie's last soccer coach, Scott—what a disaster that had been. At least Coach Samuels was more focused on the elements of soccer than on his player's sisters—" I'm afraid we have some bad news. Lizzie was trying to steal the ball and I'm afraid she's sprained her ankle pretty badly. We're going to have to have someone take her to the hospital."

Casey's heart fell. Lizzie lived for soccer. No telling for how long Lizzie would have to recuperate. Casey wondered if the crazy Venturi household would calm down long enough for Lizzie to make a full recovery.

**Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed my comeback—and the little cliffhanger! By the way, did anyone else notice on "Derek's School of Dating" that when Edwin asked Derek on how to treat girls, Derek said, "Treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen"? Such a perfect little snippet of Dasey! Although I was a little disappointed at the Dally featured in "Open Mic Plight". I like Sally's character; but she's just not right for Derek.**

**So c'mon, make me happy and review! Cookies to those that do!**

**(Thanks bunches to Brontesis who inspired me to start writing again!)**


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